We Begin in the Orchard
Apples As A Time Machine
We went apple picking today - something of a yearly tradition. Though let’s be honest, the cider doughnuts are really why we’re all there, are they not?
My brother and sister-in- law from Texas are in town and I joked with them that unless they wore flannel or a fall vest, they’d need I.D. to get.
“Boy you weren’t kidding,” my brother-in-law said as we pulled into the orchard, awash as it was with so much flannel.
Anyway, I’m not going to write yet another ode to apples. Frost did it fine and nothing has topped that yet.
It just occurred to me that apple picking is yet another in a long line of curious, organic activities that have become live, time machines. Like the changing seasons, the manifestations of growth and death and rebirth, Little Bean has grown up in such orchards.
We begin in the orchard, the orchard is us, we return time and time again, each time older, each time different but the same. The apples are always the same but different. And on and on.
And that’s fine. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some cider doughnuts to eat!
My mother once took me to Quebec to buy drops for applesauce. I still remember that day vividly.
Thank you, Dan, for reminding us we need to find an orchard! 🍎🍏🍎